If you know me in real life or if you follow this blog, you know I have recently put a lot of effort into combating my over-eating and have lost a considerable amount of weight. As of Friday, I have lost 60 lbs since March. In fact, Friday morning was the day I hit that milestone. I had no idea that in 10 hours, that milestone would pale in comparison to the surprise that was about to come to light.
So I've lost weight, bla, bla, bla. My cycles had been really screwy since the weight loss stuff started. Some months I would only have a handful of sporadic period-free days, sometimes I'd have one that would only last a few days and then come back two weeks later. The last cycle was fairly normal-ish, though. It started August 22nd and ended September 4th. I was so messed up in that department, that I didn't really pay attention to the fact that my period was late. In fact, it never even crossed my mind until the nausea started.
Over the last 2 weeks or so, I've had these random bouts of light nausea. It usually comes after I've taken my vitamins, which is pretty common for me, so I brushed it off. Justin even made a few comments about me being pregnant, but I dismissed them quickly with an "oh hell no" or "don't you put that on me, Ricky Bobby!" Then the nausea started to hit in the middle of the day or when I waited too long to eat. This sort of made my spidey senses tingle a little because that is one of the most common symptoms I had with both my previous pregnancies. Ever happy to live in the land of denial, I ignored these signs and just chocked it up to all the recent changes my body has undergone...until I stopped liking coffee.
Oh the horror!! What was once the best part of waking up suddenly tasted like liquid disappointment in my cup. I had an inkling (which I still tried to ignore) that something was going on when I stopped finishing my morning coffee because it just wasn't appealing. For five whole days, I only finished my coffee one time. The rest of the days, I barely made it through half before giving up hope that it would taste better. The thing that tipped the scales in favor of me actually taking a pregnancy test was on Friday afternoon when I was home for my lunch break. I opened up the lid on my coffee cup, and when the scent wafted up and hit my nostrils, I gagged. It was in that moment that I decided I would take a test that night.
Friday evening found us at the store for a forgotten ingredient to my hubs' amazing steak sandwich dinner. While we were there, I asked him to buy me a pregnancy test, "just to rule it out", because I was still heavy in denial. He agreed and we cracked jokes about the test. In my head, though, I was terrified. What would we do if it came back positive? The idea was at once scary and ludicrous, so I tucked my head comfortably back into the sand and made myself believe a positive test was impossible. I truly didn't think I was pregnant, mostly because I wouldn't allow myself to entertain the thought. Here I am, only 22 lbs away from hitting my health/weight loss goal, only 3 months into a new job, already worrying about affording Christmas for the 2 kids we have, and my marriage hasn't been the most solid in recent months. The timing couldn't be worse and I kept that running through my mind, almost trying to will away the inevitable.
Around 8pm, I had to pee. It was the moment of truth. As always, Presley followed me into the bathroom and when I started to unwrap the stick, she asked what it was. I just said I had to pee pee on it and changed the subject. Her big, almond eyes stared right through me as I hit my stream with the absorbent tip and then slowly pulled the stick up so I could watch the lines in the window turn blue. A wave of shock knocked the wind out of me when I looked at that stick and there was a plus in the round window...it was positive.
Tears welled up, I told Presley to go get Daddy. She ran out of the bathroom, but got distracted on the way and just started talking to Justin about something completely different. So I put the stick on top of the box it came in, and carried it out to him with what must have been the face of someone who had just seen a ghost. I don't even remember what I said but somehow I conveyed to him that I was pregnant. I may have even thrown an F bomb in there. I truly don't know because that moment was a complete blur. Then I cried even more. How are we going to do this? Are we allowed to be happy? What will people think?!?!
The pregnancy PTSD was strong for at least an hour, though Justin's excitement did help calm my doubts and remind me what a miracle this truly is. We told Trinity and she was so happy, she hugged me for what felt like several minutes and told me I was crazy to worry that she wouldn't be happy. We told Presley, but telling a toddler anything important is pretty anticlimactic because they're more interested in whatever shiny or lit-up object is in front of their face in that moment. They don't understand the concept, but she did say she wants to be a big sissy so she had a minor grasp on the situation.
The first person I told was my Dad. He was happy, but I'm sure my stunned rambling made him question my sanity. Rather quickly, we ran through the list of VIPs, shocking them with our news, and for me, allowing their excitement to wash away my fear and see this for what it is: a blessing. Because in spite of what my bank account has in it, or where we are in life, a child is the greatest gift anyone can ever receive.
I struggled with unexplained infertility before finally conceiving both my daughters. Those years were some of the worst of my life. I felt hopeless and broken and like a piece of me was missing because all I ever wanted was to be a Mom. More specifically, all I ever wanted were 3 little rugrats to complete a family of 5. When I finally got pregnant with Presley, the relief was so great that I was perfectly content if she were my last child. In fact, we had talked about it and agreed that it would probably be best if we didn't try to have more because a family of 4 is pretty perfect. I think that mindset is what made my initial reaction to this baby less-than-stellar. But once I stepped out of my own head, and took a second to see the bigger picture, I was overwhelmed with gratitude. This is the 3rd child I had always pictured in my head. The one that would complete our family. Not everyone gets to experience this feeling and I'll be damned if I'll take it for granted.
So here we are, 2 days later, me and The Bean growing together, just in different ways. As The Bean develops into a whole person, I am growing into a woman who is going to make this final pregnancy the best one yet. I am going to avoid the myriad of unhealthy habits I embraced with my first 2 pregnancies, and work at maintaining my health throughout this entire process. I am going to be grateful for every visit to the toilet, every ache and pain, because this is the last time I will ever experience it. I am going to stay active and stress less. I've made a lot of progress in that arena and I intend to keep that up so this baby doesn't suffer the way my first two did.
Based on a due date calculator, it's possible that this baby was actually conceived on my birthday. If that's the case, it will be due May 29th. My doc's office is closed on the weekend, so I have to wait until Monday to schedule an appointment. I most likely still won't have a solid due date until they do an ultrasound, so I'm just going with "Summer 2017" as my stock answer when people ask when I'm due.
Honestly, I don't know what to expect over the next several months, but I do know that I'm going to make the very best of all of it. Me, a girl who wasn't sure she could ever get pregnant once, is now pregnant for the third time. That's not something I will ever take lightly. This child has a purpose, a reason for being here. Not the least of which is to make The Sams Fam complete.
Based on a due date calculator, it's possible that this baby was actually conceived on my birthday. If that's the case, it will be due May 29th. My doc's office is closed on the weekend, so I have to wait until Monday to schedule an appointment. I most likely still won't have a solid due date until they do an ultrasound, so I'm just going with "Summer 2017" as my stock answer when people ask when I'm due.
Honestly, I don't know what to expect over the next several months, but I do know that I'm going to make the very best of all of it. Me, a girl who wasn't sure she could ever get pregnant once, is now pregnant for the third time. That's not something I will ever take lightly. This child has a purpose, a reason for being here. Not the least of which is to make The Sams Fam complete.
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